W.  A.  ALLEN,  AUTHOR 


The  Sheep  Eaters 


r>v 


,   D.D.S. 


THE  SHAKESPEARE  PRESS, 

U4-U6  EAST  28TH  STREET, 

New  YORK, 

1913, 


COPYRIGHT,   1913, 

by 
W.  A.  ALLEN 


ancrofc  Library 


This  Book  Is  Affectionately 
Dedicated  To  My  Friend 

MRS.  CLARA  DALLAS. 


CONTENTS 

Chapter  Page 

I  AN    EXTINCT    MOUNTAIN    TRIBE 7 

II  THE    OLD    SQUAW'S    TALE 12 

III  THE  GOLD  SEEKER  IN  THE  MOUNTAINS 21 

IV  STARTING    FOR    THE    PAINT    ROCKS 30 

V  A    TALK    WITH    LITTLE    BEAR 35 

VI  CURIOSITIES    AROUND    PAINT    ROCK 45 

VII  THE     STORY     OP     AGGRETTA     AND     THE     RED 

ARROW 51 

VIII  CLOSING    WORDS.  .  72 


THE  SHEEP  EATERS 


CHAPTER    I 

AN     EXTINCT     MOUNTAIN     TRIBE 

The  Sheep  Eaters  were  a  tribe  of  Indians 
that  became  extinct  about  fifty  years  ago,  and 
what  remaining  history  there  is  of  this  tribe 
is  inscribed  upon  granite  walls  of  rock  in 
Wyoming  and  Montana,  and  in  a  few  defiles 
and  canyons,  together  with  a  few  arrows  and 
tepees  remaining  near  Black  Canyon,  whose 
stream  empties  into  the  Big  Horn  Eiver.  Bald 
Mountain  still  holds  the  great  shrine  wheel, 
where  the  twenty-eight  tribes  came  semi-annu- 
ally  to  worship  the  sun,  and  in  the  most  inacces 
sible  places  may  still  be  found  the  remains  of  a 
happy  people.  Small  in  stature  and  living 
among  the  clouds,  this  proud  race  lived  a  happy 
life  far  removed  from  all  other  Indians. 

The  Shoshones  seem  to  be  a  branch  of  the 


[7] 


THE  SHEEP  EATERS 


Sheep  Eaters  who  afterwards  intermarried 
with  the  Mountain  Crows,  a  tall  race  of  people 
who  gave  to  the  Shoshones  a  taller  and  better 
physique.  From  what  can  be  gleaned,  the 
Sheep  Eater  women  were  most  beautiful,  but 
resembled  the  Alaskan  Indians  in  their  short 
ness  of  stature. 

These  people  drew  their  name  from  their 
principal  article  of  food,  Mountain  Sheep, 
although,  when  winter  set  in,  elk  and  deer  were 
often  killed  when  coming  down  before  a  driving 
snow  storm. 

Their  home  life  was  simple.  They  lived 
in  the  grassy  parks  of  the  mountains  which 
abounded  in  springs  of  fresh  water,  and  were 
surrounded  by  evergreens  and  quaking  asps 
and  sheltered  by  granite  walls  rising  from  fifty 
to  a  thousand  feet  high.  Their  tepees  were  dif 
ferent  from  those  of  all  other  tribes,  and  were 
not  covered  with  rawhide  but  thatched  with 
quaking  asp  bark,  and  covered  with  a  gum  and 
glue  made  from  sheep's  hoofs.  Another  variety 
were  covered  with  pitch  pine  gum. 

[8] 


THE   SHEEP   EATERS 


In  this  manner  lived  the  twenty-eight  tribes 
of  Sheep  Eaters,  carving  their  history  on 
granite  walls,  building  their  homes  permanent 
ly  among  the  snowy  peaks  where  they  held  com 
munion  with  the  sun,  and  worshipping  at  their 
altar  on  Bald  Mountain,  which  seems  likely  to 
remain  until  the  Sheep  Eaters  are  awakened  by 
Gabriel's  trumpet  on  the  morning  of  the  resur 
rection. 

Never  having  been  taught  differently,  they 
believed  in  gods,  chief  of  which  was  the  sun, 
and  consecrated  their  lives  to  them;  and  their 
eternal  happiness  will  be  complete  in  the  great 
Happy  Eegion  where  all  is  bright  and  warm. 
The  great  wheel,  or  shrine,  of  this  people  is 
eighty  feet  across  the  face,  and  has  twenty- 
eight  spokes,  representing  the  twenty-eight 
tribes  of  their  race.  At  the  center  or  hub 
there  is  a  house  of  stone,  where  Bed  Eagle  held 
the  position  of  chief  or  leader  of  all  the  tribes. 
Facing  the  northeast  was  the  house  of  the  god 
of  plenty,  and  on  the  southeast  faced  the  house 
of  the  goddess  of  beauty ;  and  due  west  was  the 

[9] 


THE  SHEEP  EATERS 


beautifully  built  granite  cave  dedicated  to  the 
sun  god,  and  from  this  position  the  services 
were  supposed  to  be  directed  by  him.  Stand 
ing  along  the  twenty-eight  spokes  were  the 
worshippers,  chanting  their  songs  of  praise  to 
the  heavens,  while  their  sun  dial  on  earth  was 
a  true  copy  of  the  sun. 

A  short  time  ago  I  learned  that  among  the 
Mountain  Crows  there  lived  an  old  woman,  who 
was  the  very  last  of  her  tribe,  and  who  was  so 
old  she  seemed  like  a  spirit  from  another  world. 
She  had  outlived  her  people  and  had  wandered 
away  from  her  home  on  the  mountains  into  the 
valleys,  living  on  berries  and  wild  fruit  as  she 
wandered.  She  alone  could  read  the  painted 
rocks  and  tell  their  meaning,  and  could  relate 
the  past  glories  of  the  tribe  and  the  methods  of 
the  arrow  makers,  who  transformed  the  obsid 
ian  into  the  finished  arrows  ready  to  kill  the 
mountain  ram. 

I  was  very  anxious  to  see  this  creature,  who 
had  outlived  her  race  and  her  usefulness,  and 
so  one  day  I  saddled  my  horse,  Billie,  put  on 

[10] 


THE   SHEEP   EATERS 


my  cartridge  belt,  took  my  rifle  in  my  hand,  and 
set  out  for  the  mountains  where  I  knew  a  small 
band  of  Mountain  Crows  were  hunting  buffalo 
on  Wind  Eiver. 

After  a  long  ride  I  passed  Bovay  Creek  and 
struck  the  Buffalo  Trail,  which  led  directly 
toward  the  mountains.  It  soon  headed  toward 
the  south  and  I  crossed  a  mountain  stream  and 
headed  toward  the  Big  Horn  Canyon.  I  had 
gone  about  two  miles  when  I  discovered  some 
thing  to  my  right  sitting  on  the  remains  of  a 
mountain  cedar,  and  in  a  moment  I  was  on  the 
scene.  I  pulled  up  my  horse  and  dismounted 
and  discovered  that  I  had  found  the  object  of 
my  search,  the  Sheep  Eater  squaw. 


[11] 


THE   SHEEP   EATERS 


CHAPTER   II 

THE  OLD  SQUAWKS    TALE 

Passing  the  Big  Horn  Canyon,  where  the 
rushing  waters  were  beaten  into  spray,  and 
where  granite  walls  were  shining  like  great 
sapphires  reflected  in  the  sun's  bright  rays,  I 
wondered  how  many  centuries  it  took  to  chisel 
that  mighty  water  way  fifty-two  miles  through 
this  tortuous  mountain.  Perpendicular  walls 
of  fully  2000  feet  are  standing  sentinels  above 
this  silvery  water  which  goes  roaring  and  foam 
ing  through  the  narrow  abyss. 

The  golden  eagle  closes  its  wings  and  falls 
through  space  like  a  rocket  from  some  unknown 
world,  uttering  a  scream  that  resounds  like  a 
crash  of  lightning.  The  Big  Horn,  proudly 
perched  on  yonder  crag,  bids  defiance  to  all 
living  creatures.  For  fifteen  miles  this  box 
canyon  has  cut  through  the  backbone  of  the 
mountains  and  holds  the  clear  waters  as  in  the 


[12] 


THE   SHEEP   EATERS 


palm  of  one's  hand.  At  the  mouth  of  the 
canyon,  where  the  waters  flow  calm  as  a  sum 
mer  lake,  as  though  tired  from  their  terrible 
journey,  the  rounded  boulders,  the  white  sands 
and  quartz  that  have  passed  through,  are  rest 
ing,  peaceful  as  the  wild  rose  which  waves  to 
and  fro  in  the  spring  zephyrs. 

In  the  sand  lies  a  dead  cedar.  Torn  from 
the  mountain  top  and  crashing  down  the  canyon, 
it  was  carried  by  the  rushing  waters  out  on  to 
the  beach  and  deposited  in  the  sand.  Sitting 
on  a  branch  of  this  cedar  is  an  old  woman.  Her 
white  locks  hang  crisp  and  short  on  her  bony 
shoulders;  her  face  is  covered  with  a  semi- 
parchment,  brown  as  the  forest  leaves,  and 
drawn  tight  over  her  high  cheek  bones ;  her  eyes 
are  small  and  sunken  in  her  head,  but  the  fire 
has  not  yet  gone  out.  An  old  elk  skin  robe, 
tattered  and  torn,  is  thrown  across  her  shoul 
ders,  with  its  few  porcupine  quills  still  hanging 
by  the  sinew  threads  where  they  were  placed 
a  century  ago.  The  last  of  her  race!  Yes, 
long  ago  her  people  have  become  extinct, 


THE  SHEEP  EATERS 


passed  away  leaving  her  to  die.  But  alas, 
death  does  not  claim  her,  and  she  wanders  alone 
until  picked  up  by  the  mountain  Absarokees. 

I  sat  down  by  her  side  and  asked  her  by  sign 
talk:  "Are  you  a  Sioux? "  She  shook  her 
head.  "Are  you  a  Blackfoot?"  Again  she 
shook  her  head,  and  the  effort  seemed  to  tire 
her.  I  made  many  signs  of  the  different  tribes, 
but  in  the  Crow  sign  she  said  "No"  to  them  all. 
Her  form  seemed  to  be  of  rawhide,  and  on  her 
fingers  were  still  a  few  old  rings  made  from  the 
horn  of  the  bighorn  ram. 

I  gave  her  some  of  my  lunch,  as  I  ate,  and 
she  munched  it  with  a  set  of  old  teeth  worn  to 
the  gums.  She  ate  in  silence  until  all  was 
gone;  then  I  told  her  I  was  a  medicine  man, 
and  asked  her  how  old  she  was.  She  held  up 
ten  stubs  of  fingers,  all  of  which  had  been 
partly  cut  off  while  mourning  for  dead  rela 
tives,  then  took  them  down  until  she  had 
counted  one  hundred  and  fifteen  years.  Her 
eyes  brightened,  and  she  fronted  away  to  the 
main  range  to  a  towering  crag  of  granite,  fac- 


THE   SHEEP    EATERS 


ing  the  north,  where  Bull  Elk  Canyon  empties 
into  the  Big  Horn.  She  held  her  withered  arm 
high  above  her  head  and  said  in  sign  language : 
"My  people  lived  among  the  clouds.  We 
were  the  Sheep  Eaters  who  have  passed  away, 
but  on  those  walls  are  the  paint  rocks,  where 
our  traditions  are  written  on  their  face,  chis 
eled  with  obsidian  arrow  heads.  Our  people 
were  not  warriors.  We  worshipped  the  sun, 
and  the  sun  is  bright  and  so  were  our  people. 
Our  men  were  good  and  our  women  were  like 
the  sun.  The  Great  Spirit  has  stamped  our 
impressions  on  the  rocks  by  His  lightnings; 
there  are  many  of  our  people  who  were  outlined 
on  those  smooth  walls  years  ago ;  then  our  peo 
ple  painted  their  figures,  or  traced  them  with 
beautiful  colored  stones,  and  the  paleface  calls 
them  "painted  rocks."  Our  people  never  came 
down  into  the  valleys,  but  always  lived  among 
the  clouds,  eating  the  mountain  sheep  and  the 
goats,  and  sometimes  the  elk  when  they  came 
high  on  the  mountains.  Our  tepees  were  made 
of  the  cedar,  thatched  with  grey  moss  and 

[15] 


THE    SHEEP   EATERS 


cemented  with  the  gum  frpm  the  pines,  car 
peted  with  the  mountain  skeep-skins,  soft  as 
down.  Our  garments  were  made  from  the  skins 
of  the  gazelle,  and  ornamented  with  eagle  feath 
ers  and  ermine  and  otter  skins. 

"We  chanted  our  songs  to  the  sun,  and  the 
Great  Spirit  was  pleased.  He  gave  us  much 
sheep  and  meat  and  berries  and  pure  water, 
and  snow  to  keep  the  flies  away.  The  water 
was  never  muddy.  We  had  no  dogs  nor  horses. 
We  did  not  go  far  from  our  homes,  but  were 
happy  in  our  mountain  abode.  Then  came  the 
Sioux,  who  killed  the  elk  and  buffalo  in  the 
valleys.  They  had  swarms  of  dogs  and  horses, 
and  ran  the  game  until  it  left  the  valleys  and 
went  far  away.  Their  people  were  always  at 
war  and  stealing  horses,  which  was  very  wrong 
in  the  sight  of  our  people,  who  never  stole  any 
thing.  Our  men  were  fearless  and  brave,  and 
could  bring  down  all  kinds  of  game  with  their 
bows  and  arrows,  and  were  contented;  but  the 
Sioux  were  not  contented  with  fighting  their 
enemies,  but  came  to  our  mountain  home  and 

[16] 


SHEEP  EATER   SQUAW  115  YEARS   OLD 
"THE  WOMAN  UNDER  THE  GROUND'' 


THE   SHEEP    EATERS 


began  to  try  to  ascend  the  trail.  Our  chief  met 
them  on  the  steep  precipice  and  ordered  them 
to  stop  where  they  were,  but  they  murmured 
and  made  signs  of  battle.  Our  people  had  great 
masses  of  rock  as  large  as  houses,  where  they 
could  let  them  loose  down  the  trail  and  cfush 
the  Sioux  into  the  earth  as  they  were  all  down 
in  a  deep  canyon. 

"The  Sioux  stopped  and  began  a  war  coun 
cil,  and  began  to  paint  and  get  ready  for  battle. 
Our  chief  got  the  great  rocks  ready,  and  then 
sent  a  runner  to  tell  the  Sioux  that  our  people 
never  went  into  the  valleys  nor  killed  the 
buffalo,  and  that  we  wished  to  be  apart  from  all 
other  people.  After  a  long  council  the  Sioux 
fired  a  volley  of  arrows  at  our  runner,  and 
wounded  him  in  the  thigh.  He  came  to  the 
chief  greatly  alarmed  at  the  dreaded  Sioux  as 
they  were  many. 

"The  ponies  in  the  valley  below  were 
strange  looking  creatures  to  us;  we  had  never 
seen  them  before.  The  dogs  were  howling  and 
the  valley  rang  with  the  wild  warwhoop.  The 

[17] 


THE   SHEEP   EATERS 


time  had  come  for  action,  and  the  Sheep  Eaters 
assembled  at  the  narrow  trail,  headed  by  their 
chieftain,  Bed  Eagle,  with  his  bow  six  feet  long, 
made  from  the  mountain  ram's  horn,  and 
bound  with  glue  and  sinew  from  the  sheep 's 
neck.  Great  excitement  prevailed.  The  squaws 
and  children  had  hidden  among  the  rocks  with 
all  their  robes  and  earthly  possessions.  The 
wild  and  savage  Sioux  knew  no  fear  and  were 
pressing  up  the  narrow  trail  with  war  paint 
and  feathers,  their  grim  visages  scowling  in  the 
sunlight  as  they  came. 

"Bed  Eagle,  with  that  bravery  known  only 
to  his  tribe,  waited  until  they  had  reached  the 
most  dangerous  precipice.  Then  with  a  great 
lever  that  had  been  prepared  years  before,  he 
loosened  the  great  rock  from  its  moorings,  and 
with  one  crash  it  sped  down  the  canyon  like  a 
cyclone,  tearing  the  trees  from  their  roots,  and 
starting  the  rocks,  until  the  canyon  became  one 
great  earthquake.  The  screams  of  the  terrified 
Indians,  the  howling  of  dogs  and  the  neighing 
of  horses  were  heard  in  one  awful  roar.  The 


[18] 


THE   SHEEP   EATERS 


battle  was  over.  The  canyon  was  a  mass  of 
blood,  and  death  was  abroad  in  the  valley.  Not 
a  living  thing  was  to  be  seen. 

"Red  Eagle  took  a  horn  made  of  red  cedar, 
and  gave  one  long  quivering  blast  which  echoed 
and  reechoed  through  the  alps  and  was  carried 
across  the  glaciers  to  every  part  of  the  moun 
tain.  Then  the  women  and  children  came  back 
and  once  more  took  shelter  in  their  comfortable 
homes. ' ' 

I  arose  and  gave  the  old  crone  the  balance 
of  my  lunch,  and  told  her  I  was  going  to  see 
that  mountain  some  day  and  see  their  houses, 
but  she  held  up  her  hand  and  said,  "Away  up 
mountain  long  time  ago,  maybe  so,  no  tepee, 
now." 

And  I  went  and  left  her  sitting  alone  on  the 
old  tree,  waiting  for  the  Great  Spirit  to  come 
take  her  to  her  tribe,  over  on  the  happy  hunting 
ground,  where  scenes  of  warfare  and  savage 
Sioux  would  never  molest  them  again.  As  I 
left  her  alone  on  the  bank  of  the  Big  Horn  I 
could  not  help  feeling  a  pang  of  pity  for  the 

[19] 


THE   SHEEP   EATERS 


wild  woman  of  the  Eockies,  whose  life  had  been 
spent  among  the  canyons,  and  on  the  streams 
whose  waters  had  chiseled  great  passages 
through  those  granite  walls  centuries  ago. 
She  who  was  once  a  belle  in  her  tribe  and  had 
lived  to  see  the  extermination  of  her  people, 
and  now  wandered  alone  wishing  to  die  and 
pass  beyond.  The  earth  was  not  to  her  as  it 
had  been  in  her  youth. 

I  shall  never  forget  the  spell  that  came  over 
me  as  she  raised  her  palsied  arm  and  showed 
me  where  she  had  lived  a  hundred  years  ago. 
Something  seemed  to  tell  me  she  was  speaking 
the  truth  and  my  trip  to  that  mountain  became 
a  living  passion  from  that  day. 


[20] 


THE   SHEEP   EATERS 


CHAPTER  III 

THE    GOLD    SEEKER    IN    THE  MOUNTAINS 

On  the  apex  of  Medicine  Mountain,  whose 
rugged  cliffs  hold  communion  with  the  fleeting 
clouds,  and  where  the  winds  sing  dismal  songs 
among  the  cedar  boughs,  there  the  forked 
lightnings  at  intervals  light  up  the  panorama 
and  a  thousand  beautiful  springs  and  water 
falls  sparkle  like  myriads  of  diamonds.  The 
mountain  ash  and  the  golden  leaves  of  the 
mountain  quaking  asp  cast  their  shadows  to 
make  perfect  this  great  wonderland,  whose 
colors  are  more  splendid  than  the  rainbow  or 
the  golden  setting  of  the  western  sun. 

Among  such  scenery  one  could  live  away 
from  the  gilded  vices  and  the  artificial  lives  of 
the  crowded  cities,  and  it  was  close  to  the  god  of 
nature  these  people  lived  and  carved  their  his 
tory  on  the  mountains  and  rocks,  worshipped 
the  sun  because  it  was  warm  and  bright,  and 

[21] 


THE   SHEEP   EATERS 


because  it  lighted  the  narrow  trail  through  the 
defiles  of  the  mountains,  across  the  streams  and 
through  the  cool  green  forests,  along  the 
rugged  cliffs  where  the  horny  hoofs  of  the  elk, 
deer,  and  mountain  sheep  had  blazed  a  trail  so 
narrow  and  so  steep  that  none  but  the  Sheep 
Eaters  dare  travel  its  rugged  heights. 

Along  these  trails  could  be  seen  at  the  four 
seasons  of  the  year,  all  of  the  Sheep  Eaters, 
wending  their  way  to  the  sacred  shrine,  the 
great  wheel,  with  its  gates  and  its  gods  of 
plenty  and  light.  Here  on  an  elevated  spur  a 
thousand  feet  above  the  Porcupine  Basin, 
standing  out  to  the  east,  is  a  great  look-out, 
where  the  great  sun  dial  with  its  twenty-eight 
spokes  representing  the  twenty-eight  tribes  of 
the  Sheep  Eaters,  overlooking  the  great  Grey 
Bull  country,  the  Ten  Sleep  Mountains  and  the 
Teton  Peaks  sweeping  down  toward  the  Big 
Horn  Canyon.  There  the  Grey  Bull  and  Wind 
Eiver  and  Sage  Creek  are  sweeping  through 
Big  Horn  Canyon,  with  its  chiseled  walls,  more 
than  a  third  of  a  mile  in  height,  and  its  serpen- 

[22] 


THE   SHEEP    EATERS 


tine  trail  fifty-two  miles  into  the  Big  Horn 
River,  and  thence  into  the  Yellowstone  and  Mis 
souri  and  on  to  the  ocean. 

Here  nature's  god  had  spread  with  lavish 
hand  the  richest  and  the  greatest  blessings  to 
the  Sheep  Eaters.  The  buffalo  down  in  the 
valleys,  the  antelope  on  the  plains,  the  gazelle 
along  the  streams,  and  the  elk,  black-tail  and 
big  horn  on  the  mountains,  the  mountain 
grouse,  and  the  streams  filled  with  trout,  camas 
root  for  bread,  cherries,  raspberries,  and 
strawberries^  made  a  Garden  of  Eden  for  these 
people  until  a  thousand  years  had  passed,  and 
the  tribes  increased  to  twenty-eight  before  the 
onward  march  of  the  Sioux  across  and  beyond 
the  Mississippi  and  Missouri  brought  them  into 
the  Sheep  Eaters'  country. 

Around  the  base  of  these  mountains  were 
many  alluring  deposits  of  gold,  and  small  gold 
camps  had  started  at  Fire  Springs,  Bear  Creek 
and  on  the  east  and  west  forks  of  the  historical 
Little  Big  Horn,  all  in  or  near  the  beautiful 
Porcupine  Basin.  But  the  alluring  grains  of 

[23] 


THE  SHEEP  EATERS 


the  precious  metal  could  not  be  found  in  pay 
ing  quantities  and  the  miners  had  quietly 
packed  their  plunder  and  "  hiked  the  trail "  to 
more  plentiful  paying  i '  diggins. ' ' 

The  entire  village  was  deserted  except  for 
the  venerable  Captain  Jack,  who  still  drew  a 
pension  from  the  English  Government  which, 
small  as  it  was,  supported  him  in  this  beautiful 
country. 

As  we  swung  down  the  trail  which  passed 
near  his  cabin  door,  we  were  hailed  by  the 
old  veteran,  coming  wet  from  his  claim  with  a 
pan  of  sand,  which  showed  many  grains  of 
bright  gold. 

"Just  took  up  a  small  pan,  it's  sure  rich," 
he  said,  "get  down  and  we  will  have  supper 
and  some  deer  steak." 

This  was  too  much,  for  we  were  all  hungry 
and  tired,  and  the  large  black-tail  deer  hanging 
in  the  corner  of  his  cabin  told  only  too  well 
that  venison  was  in  the  larder.  Our  horses  were 
soon  picketed,  the  packs  stored  away,  and  we 

[24] 


THE   SHEEP   EATERS 


were  all  straining  our  eyes  to  see  the  precious 
gold. 

There  were  many  colors,  but  all  but  two 
or  three  were  very  fine.  They  had  lured  thou 
sands  to  the  Basin,  but  the  yellow  metal  could 
not  be  found  in  anything  like  paying  quantities. 
Mr.  McKensey  told  the  Captain  that  I  was  quite 
an  expert  in  placer  mining  and  had  been  in  the 
Black  Hills,  Virginia  City,  and  Old  Alder 
Gulch.  This  was  enough  and  I  had  to  agree  to 
stay  over  a  day  and  see  a  wonderful  clean-up, 
which  would  be  tomorrow.  I  wanted  to  see 
more  of  the  wonderful  Basin  and  so  decided  to 
stay  over  and  see  the  Captain  make  his  week's 
clean-up,  which  should  run  from  seventy-five  to 
a  hundred  dollars,  all  told. 

The  Captain  was  seventy  years  of  age,  rheu 
matic,  and  slightly  bent.  Only  when  speaking 
of  the  English  Army  he  straightened  his 
shoulders  and  was  all  soldier.  His  eyes  were 
a  steel  grey,  and  his  hair  was  long  and  white, 
hanging  on  his  shoulders,  and  he  wore  a  long 
thin  beard.  He  was  well  educated  and  loved 


[25] 


THE   SHEEP   EATERS 


the  mountains  with  a  love  only  known  to  the 
old  pioneer  and  miner.  With  assurances  of  a 
fine  clean-up  in  the  morning  we  retired. 

Morning  brought  the  sweet  refreshed  feel 
ing  only  known  to  the  tired  mountaineer,  and 
after  our  breakfast  of  venison,  coffee,  fried 
potatoes  and  bacon,  we  were  off  for  the  sluice- 
boxes  laden  with  the  precious  metal. 

As  we  walked  along,  the  Captain  told  me 
that  the  geological  formation  was  something 
wonderful  in  that  region,  but  with  my  lifetime 
of  experience  I  could  see  no  reason  for  placer 
gold  in  the  mountains.  The  decomposed 
mountains  showed  considerable  erosion  but  the 
rocks  seemed  entirely  devoid  of  granite  or 
quartz,  and  there  was  no  volcanic  action  to  be 
seen.  There  was  considerable  iron  and  sand 
stone,  but  no  sign  whatever  of  gravel  wash. 
The  small  particles  of  gold  had  surely  been  de 
posited  by  some  glacial  wash  from  the  north 
in  the  early  formation  of  the  earth. 

Soon  we  reached  the  cut  where  the  Captain 
had  done  some  wonderful  work  in  the  shale 


[26] 


THE  SHEEP  EATERS 


rock.  Where  a  large  spring  came  out  of  the 
ground  he  had  piled  the  rock  ten  feet  high  on 
either  side,  and  his  dump  where  he  had  piled 
tons  of  dirt  was  in  splendid  shape.  Here  was  a 
notice  framed  in  the  miner's  style  describing 
the  veins,  lodes,  dips  and  spurs,  running  fifteen 
hundred  feet  to  the  north-west  and  south-east, 
corner  posts,  etc. 

•  The  sluice-boxes  were  soon  cleaned  and  the 
sand  and  gravel  reduced  until  we  could  almost 
see  the  bottom  of  the  pan — but  no  gold.  After 
the  entire  contents  was  retorted  with  quick 
silver  and  burned  out  there  was  not  twenty-five 
cents  worth  of  gold.  The  Captain  assured  me 
that  his  partner  had  taken  several  ounces  out 
of  the  claim  and  had  sent  it  to  the  assay  office 
for  melting  and  refining. 

I  said,  "Captain,  you  are  an  old  man  and 
should  go  to  the  settlements  and  enjoy  the  re 
mainder  of  your  life."  He  replied,  "There  is 
no  place  on  this  earth  so  dear  to  me  as  these 
mountains.  Here  is  where  I  have  lived  and 
here  is  where  I  shall  die — close  to  the  nature 


[27] 


THE  SHEEP  EATERS 


god  and  his  beautiful  works,  among  the  flowers 
and  birds  of  summer  and  the  storms  and  ever 
greens  of -winter." 

It  was  enough.  I  caught  the  inspiration 
and  could  have  remained  with  him  had  I  been 
so  unconventional.  But  life  held  something 
dearer  and  I  was  soon  headed  toward  the  cabin. 

"Well,  Captain,"  I  said,  "you  will  never 
find  gold  in  these  mountains,  but  if  you  love  the 
crags,  and  the  wild  winds  and  the  deer,  nature 
in  all  its  purity,  the  bursting  of  the  buds  in 
springtime,  the  flowers  on  a  thousand  hills,  the 
cold  pure  water,  the  frisking  squirrels,  the 
pure  air;  then  stay  in  the  home  of  the  miner, 
the  prospector,  the  hunter  and  the  nature  lover, 
until  you  cross  the  great  divide  which  is  allotted 
to  all  men." 

Our  visit  with  the  Captain  was  at  an  end, 
and  we  must  say  good-bye,  perhaps  forever. 
Our  horses  were  ready  and  our  packs  were 
lashed  on  with  the  diamond  hitch.  I  got  my 
saddle  horse  and  we  moved  down  the  trail,  the 
Captain  talking  about  his  placer.  At  last 

[28] 


THE   SHEEP    EATERS 


we  came  to  the  steep  trail,  and  lie  straightened 
up  and  said,  "Well,  when  the  snow  flies  I  will 
see  you  at  your  home  in  the  city  of  Billings,  and 
then  I  will  show  you  some  gold  that  will  con 
vince  you  that  I  am  right. ' ' 

" Captain, "  I  said,  "the  latch-string  hangs 
out  for  you,  and  if  you  will  only  come  and  spend 
the  winter  with  me  I  shall  then  endeavor  to 
even  up  the  score  with  you  for  this  favor,  as  I 
know  I  can  do  it  in  no  other  way. ' ' 

He  replied,  "Well,  I  am  glad  that  you  know 
it,  and  when  you  photo  the  great  paint  rocks 
of  the  Sheep  Eaters,  their  Wheel  or  Holy 
Shrine,  their  tepees  and  landmarks,  send  me 
a  copy  of  their  wonderful  works.  And  may 
the  Great  Spirit  keep  you  until  we  meet  again. 
So  long,  Doctor." 

"So  long,  Captain,  and  may  your  days  be 
full  of  sunshine. " 


THE   SHEEP   EATERS 


CHAPTER  IV 

STARTING    FOB  THE  PAINT    BOCKS 

Slowly  we  traveled  down  the  trail  full  of 
rounded  boulders  and  stone,  our  horses  scarcely 
able  to  keep  their  feet,  and  finally  we  walked 
and  led  our  horses  until  we  reached  a  valley 
far  below  the  apex  of  the  mountain.  Here  a 
clear  cold  stream  of  water  went  tumbling  down 
the  valley,  and  here  we  unpacked  and  made  our 
camp  for  the  night. 

While  McKensey  cooked  supper  I  went 
after  a  black  bear,  whose  tracks  I  had  noticed 
on  the  sand  at  the  water's  edge.  I  took  a 
course  as  near  north-west  as  possible,  and  was 
soon  among  the  trees  and  rocks  which  I  loved 
so  well,  and  which  brought  remembrance  of 
other  days  among  the  mountains. 

After  some  wandering  I  struck  a  heavy 
game  trail,  and  could  see  deer  and  bear  tracks 
not  over  a  day  old.  I  filled  the  magazine  of  my 

[30] 


THE   SHEEP   EATERS 


rifle  and  plunged  along  at  a  fast  pace.  Here 
and  there  were  thick  clumps  of  quaking  asp, 
mountain  birch,  and  on  the  creek  banks  were 
choke  cherries  and  plum  trees.  Great  springs 
of  water  bubbled  out  of  the  earth,  and  by  one 
of  these  springs  I  found  some  of  the  Sheep 
Eaters '  lodges.  They  were  decayed  and  fallen 
to  the  earth,  but  the  rounded  stones  with  which 
they  warmed  the  water  were  there,  where  the 
great  medicine  lodges  had  stood  years  before, 
and  where,  unmolested,  they  had  passed  happy 
days  among  the  hills  and  valleys. 

The  old  woman's  stories  of  her  people  were 
being  proved  true,  and  as  I  passed  onward  mile 
after  mile  I  was  entranced  with  the  richness  of 
the  land,  the  abundance  of  game  that  had  once 
held  sway  among  the  hills,  shown  by  the  antlers 
of  the  elk  parched  white  by  the  suns,  which  lay 
on  every  side  and  the  rams '  horns  often  seen  by 
the  stream.  A  few  bones  of  the  little  gazelle 
were  among  the  remains,  and  a  heavy  buffalo 
trail  cut  the  mountains  where  once  the  buffalo 


[31] 


THE   SHEEP    EATERS 


passed  through  this  land  out  onto  the  Yellow 
stone. 

I  had  wandered  a  long  way  and  now  cut 
across  the  country  to  the  camp  through  rocky 
canyons  and  dense  cedar  growth.  I  started  a 
bear  from  his  bed  but  could  not  find  him,  and 
then  found  that  the  bear  had  started  a  large 
band  of  black-tail  deer,  which  ran  about  a  half 
a  mile  and  then  walked  leisurely  along,  crop 
ping  the  bunch  grass  here  and  there.  About 
a  mile  from  camp  I  jumped  a  bunch  of  fourteen 
of  all  kinds,  and  when  they  broke  cover  out  of 
a  plum  thicket  I  shot  a  two-year-old  spike  buck, 
cut  off  his  hams  and  carried  him  to  camp,  where 
I  found  the  boys  waiting  for  some  venison. 

Our  camp  fire  already  lit  up  the  valley,  and 
the  clear  running  stream  glistened  as  it  passed 
over  the  granite  and  quartz  of  the  Porcupine 
Basin.  Great  shadows  were  thrown  among  the 
trees  like  the  ghosts  and  goblins  on  the  ride  of 
Tarn  0  'Shanter,  who  reveled  among  the  witches 
and  warlocks.  But  we  were  hungry  and  happy 


[32] 


THE  SHEEP  EATERS 


and  turned  our  attention  to  the  broiling  veni 
son  and  brewing  coffee. 

After  supper  we  began  a  study  of  the  moun 
tains  and  the  probable  cause  of  gold  being  dis 
tributed  all  along  the  streams  in  such  small 
quantities.  Some  said  it  was  deposited  by  a 
great  glacier  from  the  north,  or  some  volcanic 
action  on  or  near  the  natural  park,  but  no 
theory  seemed  wholly  satisfactory. 

When  the  sun  illumined  a  thousand  peaks 
the  next  morning,  after  a  delightful  rest,  we 
rode  away  from  this  Holy  Grail  of  the  Sheep 
Eaters,  and  it  was  not  hard  to  imagine  the 
character  of  the  little  men  who  lived  among 
these  hills  and  valleys. 

When  we  reached  the  top  of  the  divide  we 
took  a  south-eastern  course  for  the  famous 
Paint  Kock  country,  near  Shell  Creek  and  its 
tributaries.  Our  route  lay  through  the  sage 
brush  of  the  Bad  Lands,  and  some  of  the  party 
were  very  anxious  to  stop  at  a  mountain  stream 
and  catch  some  trout.  There  were  some  old 


[33] 


THE   SHEEP   EATERS 


sluice-boxes  and  deserted  cabins,  which  were 
very  interesting  to  the  average  sightseer. 

But  we  pulled  on  for  the  Paint  Eock,  and 
after  ten  hours  hard  ride  we  arrived  on  this 
sacred  and  historic  ground.  We  picketed  our 
tired  horses,  piled  our  packs  under  a  cotton- 
wood  tree,  and  were  soon  trying  to  unravel  the 
mysteries  of  an  extinct  race.  Strange  to  say 
no  horses  were  visible  on  the  great  calendar  of 
rocks,  but  men,  women,  children,  and  hiero 
glyphics  were  crowded  on  all  available  places 
that  one  could  get  to  register  some  fact  or 
fancy  of  this  tribe. 


[34] 


THE   SHEEP   EATERS 


CHAPTER    V 

A   TALK    WITH   LITTLE   BEAE 

The  term  Paint  Bocks  will  convey  various 
meanings  to  the  average  reader.  A  descrip 
tion  seems  in  order  to  make  more  plain  what 
these  rocks  are  like. 

Just  imagine  a  stream  of  clear,  pure  water 
running  through  a  canyon,  small  and  narrow, 
with  a  smooth-surfaced  rock  face,  cut  by  the 
water  when  the  earth  and  stone  were  young 
and  tender,  on  which  one  could  write  as  on  a 
black-board  in  a  school  room.  Here  the  Sheep 
Eaters  came  to  record  their  history.  Here 
father  and  son  came  to  write  the  traditions  of 
their  tribe;  and  here  came  that  old  squaw, 
whose  name  in  her  own  tribe,  as  translated  by 
the  Crow  chief,  Pretty  Eagle,  was,  "Under- 
The-Ground.  '  *  Emblems,  original  with  their 
tribe,  were  cut  with  the  obsidian  arrowhead  in 
irregular  semicircles.  The  outlines  of  men  and 

[35] 


THE   SHEEP   EATERS 


women  were  about  three  feet  in  height.  In 
some  places  the  storms,  the  wind  and  the  water, 
had  erased  parts  of  the  engraving.  In  other 
places  hunters  had  built  their  smoking  camp- 
fires  against  the  face  of  the  rock  and  blurred 
the  markings,  or  had  wantonly  fired  bullets 
into  the  faces  and  destroyed  the  work  of  the 
Indians. 

As  I  was  getting  my  camera  arranged  to 
get  a  picture  of  one  group,  an  old  Indian  came 
riding  up  the  creek  on  a  pinto  pony.  Soon 
came  dogs,  and  squaws  dragging  their  tepee 
poles,  and  without  so  much  as  a  "How,"  they 
began  tearing  off  their  packs  and  setting  up 
their  lodges.  The  packs  consisted  of  old 
kettles,  stale  meat,  old  elk  skins  made  into 
robes,  parflesakes  filled  to  the  brim  with  pem- 
mican,  made  of  elk  fat,  choke  cherries,  and 
jerked  elk  half  dried  and  half  horsehair. 
Several  young  puppies,  too  young  to  walk,  were 
tied  with  soft  thongs  just  under  the  fore  legs 
of  the  ponies. 

Within  half  an  hour  the  whole  Little  Basin 


THE   SHEEP   EATERS 


was  filled  with  the  smell  of  spoiled  meat  and 
musty  old  blankets,  spread  in  the  sun  to  dry, 
and  the  whole  camp  looked  like  the  dump 
ground  of  a  small  town. 

The  old  chief  turned  the  entire  care  of  the 
horses,  dogs,  provisions  and  camp  over  to  the 
squaws,  and  while  they  were  busy,  he  came 
slowly  toward  the  camera,  watching  every  move 
I  made  in  trying  to  get  a  picture  of  the  Paint 
Eocks.  He  was  about  five  feet  tall,  heavy  set 
and  rather  dark.  His  good,  round  head  well 
set  on  fine  shoulders,  was  covered  with  long, 
heavy  hair,  carefully  braided  in  small  braids, 
which  hung  below  his  waist.  At  intervals 
these  braids  were  cemented  with  some  wax  and 
painted  red  and  green,  which  gave  them  the 
appearance  of  being  bound  with  straps.  The 
sternness  of  his  large  mouth,  square  chin,  and 
heavy  jaw  was  relieved  by  the  large,  brown 
eyes.  Three  scars  on  his  face  told  of  a  battle 
fought  many  years  ago,  as  also  did  the  knife 
scar  on  his  breast  and  the  old  gun-shot  wound. 
On  his  wrist  were  brass  wristlets,  and  three 

[37] 


THE   SHEEP   EATERS 


missing  finger  joints  told  of  mournings  for  his 
dead.  A  medicine  bag  and  a  half  dozen  elk 
teeth  swung  at  his  throat;  these  and  beaded 
moccasins  and  leggins  showed  him  to  be  a  chief. 
An  Indian  he  was  all  through. 

As  I  turned  to  look  at  him  he  straightened 
himself  to  his  full  height,  and  I  had  taken  him 
in  from  head  to  heel  when  he  put  his  right  arm 
out  in  front  of  him  closed  his  hand,  and  gave 
it  three  rapid  motions  up  and  down,  which,  in 
sign  talk,  is  ' '  How  do  you  do. ' '  Quick  as  a  flash 
I  straightened  my  arm  out,  laying  my  thumb 
across  my  little  finger,  made  a  half  curve,  out 
from  the  body  inward,  then  an  angling  sweep 
down,  wrhich  means  "Good."  A  twinkle  came 
in  his  eye,  and  he  answered  by  giving  me  the 
same  sign. 

I  knew  him,  but  twenty  years  had  passed 
over  his  head  since  I  last  saw  him,  and  it  was 
twenty-eight  years  since  he  and  Sitting  Bull 
fought  a  duel  with  knives,  on  the  Big  Horn. 

I  gave  him  a  challenge  and  called  him  a 
Sioux,  which  is  done  by  straightening  the 

[38] 


THE   SHEEP   EATERS 


fingers  of  the  right  hand,  laying  the  thumb 
close  into  the  palm,  making  a  rounded  curve 
outward,  then  a  quick  sweep  across  the  throat. 
He  found  and  gave  me  the  answer  "No." 
Then  he  came  very  close  to  me,  and  when  he 
saw  the  powder  in  my  face,  he  gave  a  grunt  of 
satisfaction. 

I  took  off  my  glove  and  held  out  my  hand. 
He  grasped  it  quickly  and  said  in  the  Crow 
language,  "Long  time  ago,"  then  paused — 
"long — time — ago,  many  moons,  you  heap  good 
to  me  and  my  braves. ' ' 

"How  many  moons?"  I  asked. 

He  stopped  and  his  mind  was  busy  running 
over  the  many  years,  many  camp-fires,  the 
wrongs  he  had  sustained  from  the  British 
Government  which  compelled  them  to  leave 
their  homes  and  come  to  the  United  States. 
With  a  sigh  he  held  up  one  hand,  and  with  the 
other  hand  pulled  down  three  fingers,  saying, 
"Ten,  ten,  ten." 

I  gave  him  the  sign  of  correct,  then  his  face 


[39] 


THE   SHEEP   EATERS 


brightened,  and  as  the  boys  gathered  around  us^ 
he  said,  "Do  you  know  who  it  is? " 

"Yes,"  I  replied,  "I  know  you,  you  are 
Little  Bear,  the  chief  of  the  Cree  Nation." 
He  held  up  his  hands  and  began  making  rapid 
signs.  "It  was  you,"  he  said,  "who  were  our 
friend  when  our  braves  were  arrested  for 
killing  buffalo  on  Eazor  Creek." 

"Yes,"  I  replied. 

"We  never  forget  our  friends,"  said  he. 
He  then  gave  me  a  beautiful  peace  pipe.  The 
stem  was  two  feet  long,  with  animals  engraved 
on  it;  and  the  bowl  was  made  from  Minnesota 
pipe-stone  rock,  inlaid  with  silver. 

Our  camp  fire  was  going,  and  we  all  sat 
around  it  and  smoked  the  pipe  of  peace,  which 
is  done  as  follows :  The  pipe  is  filled  with  the 
bark  of  a  red  willow,  and  when  lighted  is 
handed  to  the  highest  or  head  chief.  He  takes 
one  or  two  long  whiffs;  then,  as  he  raises  his 
head  and  blows  the  smoke  in  clouds  toward  the 
heavens  and  the  Great  Spirit,  he  passes  the 
pipe  to  his  guest  on  the  right.  This  is  con- 

[40] 


THE   SHEEP   EATERS 


tinued  until  the  pipe  is  empty,  and  all  is  done 
with  the  greatest  reverence  toward  the  Great 
Spirit. 

After  the  peace  smoke,  Little  Bear,  with  his 
squaw  and  his  son,  took  dinner  with  us.  We 
had  fresh  venison,  potatoes,  onions,  hot  pan 
cakes  and  maple  syrup,  canned  pineapple  and 
coffee.  Little  Bear  ate  a  hearty  dinner  and 
said  it  was  good,  and  to  meet  friends  made  him 
very  happy. 

After  the  meal  I  took  some  pictures  of  the 
rocks,  and  Little  Bear  asked  me  what  I  wanted 
them  for.  I  told  him  those  marks  were  a  his 
tory  of  an  ancient  tribe  of  people. 

"Yes,"  he  said,  "many,  many,  moons.  Our 
tribe  knew  nothing  of  them.  Long,  maybe  so, 
heap  years,  much  old  squaw  live  with  Mountain 
Crows.  Crows  call  her  'Under-The-Ground.' 
She  tell  much  of  little  folks  way  up  mountain. 
Much  eat  Big  Horn  sheep.  Much  pray  sun  and 
heap  Great  Spirit.  Old  squaw  say,  little  squaw 
much  good  face,  all  time  good,  bucks  no  fight, 


yes." 


[41] 


THE   SHEEP   EATERS 


I  told  him  I  had  been  upon  the  Medicine  and 
Bald  mountains  and  had  seen  their  shrine 
wheel,  and  where  they  had  lived  in  the  Big 
Horn  mountains.  I  told  him  I  had  also  been 
far  up  Clark's  Fork,  where  their  sheep  pens 
were,  ' '  Yes, ' '  I  said,  ' *  they  are  all  gone.  Great 
chief,  Pretty  Eagle,  and  I  were  old  friends,  and 
he  told  me  all  about  the  little  Indians,  their 
bows  and  arrows,  and  many  things  the  old 
squaw  had  told  him  about  their  lives  on  the 
mountains ;  but  Sheep  Eaters,  all  gone  now. ' ' 

"Ugh,"  he  replied,  "by  and  by,  maybe  so, 
Crees  all  gone,  Crows  all.  Heap  bad  for  In- 
jins. ' ' 

I  told  him  it  would  be  a  long  time  before 
that  happened,  and  that  some  day  perhaps  the 
Government  would  let  the  Crees  come  and  live 
with  the  Crows,  on  the  beautiful  Little  Horn. 

"Yes,"  he  said,  "that  would  be  very  nice. 
If  the  Great  Father  at  Washington  would  only 
say  the  word,  we  would  come  and  work  very 
hard.  We  do  not  like  our  reservation  in  the 
North-west.  It  is  too  cold  and  the  land  is  poor 

[42] 


THE   SHEEP   EATERS 


and  the  Eed  Coats  are  not  good  to  Injins." 

When  our  visit  was  over  and  the  Indians 
were  preparing  to  move,  I  turned  the  camera 
on  the  camp.  A  squaw  who  was  watching  me, 
gave  a  grunt,  turned  her  back,  and  ran ;  and  the 
others,  alarmed  scattered  like  dry  leaves  before 
a  wind.  They  did  not  return  until  I  had  taken 
the  camera  down  and  put  it  away.  Little  Bear 
explained  that  they  were  afraid,  because  they 
thought  the  camera  a  bad  spirit. 

As  the  little  band  moved  off  toward  the 
north,  Chief  Little  Bear  came  and  grasped  my 
hand  and  said,  "You  have  always  been  my 
friend,  good-bye." 

As  they  rode  away  with  all  their  wordly 
goods  packed  on  a  few  poor  cayuses,  I  could 
not  help  contrasting  their  present  condition 
with  that  of  thirty  years  ago.  Then  the  red 
man  owned  the  country.  The  plains,  the  rivers, 
the  trees  were  his;  and  his,  too,  were  the  wild 
horse,  the  buffalo,  the  elk,  the  deer,  and  the 
fish.  Self  reliant,  free,  happy,  he  was  then ;  to 
day,  a  beggar.  Everything  taken  from  him, 

[43] 


THE   SHEEP   EATERS 


Ms  tribal  relations  broken,  left  alone.  The 
hardest  stroke  of  all  was  to  have  the  tribal  rela 
tions  broken,  and  to  be  forced  under  the  control 
of  the  hated  and  despised  pale  face.  Happy  in 
deed  were  the  Sheep  Eaters  never  to  have  been 
driven  from  their  mountain  home  and  never  to 
have  known  the  power  of  the  pale  face ! 


[44] 


THE   SHEEP   EATERS 


CHAPTER  VI 

CURIOSITIES    AEOUND    PAINT    KOCKS 

For  two  days  we  camped  among  the  Paint 
Eocks,  studying  them,  but  could  find  nothing 
that  indicated  battle  or  fighting.  Neither  did 
we  find  any  dead,  nor  graves,  nor  even  bones. 
If,  like  the  Crows,  they  buried  in  the  trees,  the 
last  trace  was  gone.  There  were  no  mounds  of 
earth,  or  indications  of  earth  burials.  The 
rocks  were  mostly  covered  with  likenesses  of 
nude  men,  women,  and  children,  and  with  em 
blems.  In  places  the  artist  evidently  stood  on 
some  elevation  of  wood  or  stone,  for  the  carv 
ing  was  higher  than  the  average  man  could 
reach.  Along  a  crest  of  sandstone  I  saw  some 
very  odd  formations ;  they  looked  like  huge  in 
verted  cones,  that  some  giant  sculptor  had 
carved  there.  Perhaps  they  were  formed  by 
the  erosion  of  centuries,  or  it  may  have  been 
the  wear  caused  by  the  rubbing  of  the  buffaloes, 

[45] 


THE   SHEEP   EATERS 


for  we  found  many  of  their  bones  there,  and  I 
have  often  seen  telegraph  poles  rubbed  to  the 
breaking  point.  When  the  buffalo  is  annoyed 
by  buffalo  gnats  and  his  great  coat  is  filled  with 
mud  and  sand,  he  soon  wears  away  a  pretty 
strong  pole. 

This  was  a  strange  place,  and  in  our  search 
we  found  geodes,  petrified  snakes,  and  short 
sections  of  fish.  We  also  found  several  petri 
fied  jaw-bones,  of  what  looked  to  be  wolves, 
still  containing  the  teeth,  and  fossils  of  many 
kinds.  Some  looked  like  vegetables,  some  were 
hexagonal,  and  some  looked  as  though  made  of 
floor  tiling.  We  found  many  water  and  moss 
agates  of  various  sizes.  The  ground  was  cov 
ered  with  some  meteoric  rock  full  of  iron. 

Here  we  passed  the  day  hunting  for  some 
graves,  but  it  was  no  use.  Tree  burial  seems 
to  have  been  their  method  of  disposing  of  the 
dead.  In  this  method  of  burial  the  body  is 
taken  to  some  low  bushy  tree,  rolled  in  fine 
robes  and  blankets,  and  with  green  strips  of  elk 
bide,  wrapped  to  two  or  more  limbs.  This 

[46] 


THE   SHEEP    EATERS 


secures  it  very  firmly,  and  as  the  sun  and  wind 
dry  out  the  skin  the  thongs  tighten,  until  only 
years  of  sun  and  rain,  mice  and  bugs,  eat  away 
the  thongs,  and  the  blankets,  bones,  and  skins 
are  carried  away  by  the  wind.  In  this  method 
of  burial  the  body  lasts  about  twenty  years  or 
less. 

We  were  tired  and  hungry  when  we  re 
turned  to  camp,  but  we  soon  had  a  blazing  fire 
with  all  the  odors  of  good  things  on  the  breeze. 
Just  as  we  sat  down  to  eat,  I  heard  a  horse's 
footfall,  and  turned  to  see  who  it  was.  A  young 
brave  rode  into  the  trail,  and  I  caught  up  my 
gun.  His  hands  went  up  like  a  flash  giving  me 
the  sign  of  a  Crow.  As  all  the  hunters  and 
trappers  in  the  west,  north  and  south  of  the 
Yellowstone  Eiver,  know  the  Crows  to  be  peace 
ful,  I  put  up  my  gun  and  gave  him  the  sign  that 
I  understood  what  he  said. 

Young  braves  are  always  the  very  hardest 
members  of  the  tribe  to  engage  in  conversation, 
except  a  young  girl  of  marriageable  age.  Both 


THE    SHEEP    EATERS 


do  all  their  courting  by  making  eyes  at  each 
other. 

I  knew  him.  He  was  a  chief's  son.  Years 
before  I  had  got  some  papers  to  Washington 
for  his  father.  Also  I  knew  he  could  talk  some 
broken  English  and  Crow,  and  was  a  superb 
sign  talker. 

We  began  to  eat  and  I  made  signs  for  him 
to  picket  his  horse  and  join  us  at  supper.  I 
knew  he  was  trailing  the  camp  outfit,  which  had 
gone  and  was  many  miles  away  by  this  time. 
He  pretended  not  to  understand,  but  looking 
much  disappointed,  started  to  ride  away.  I 
hailed  him  and  told  him  to  go  back  and  get  his 
packs,  and  come  have  supper  with  us,  and 
picket  his  horses  with  ours.  His  face  remained 
blank,  and  he  showed  no  sign  of  understanding 
till  I  added  that  I  was  a  friend  of  the  Little 
Bear  chief,  and  had  kept  the  officers  from  ar 
resting  his  braves  at  Eazor  Creek  many  moons 
ago.  Then  his  face  lighted  up.  "Ugh,  me  see 
you  before.  How  you  know  me  got  pack 
horses?  You  no  see  7em." 


[48] 


THE    SHEEP    EATERS 


" Never  mind,  I  know  Injin,"  I  replied,  "I 
heap  plenty  see. ' ' 

He  turned  down  the  trail  and  soon  returned 
with  three  good  looking  packs,  well  loaded.  I 
showed  him  a  good  place  to  unpack  and  he  made 
short  work  of  it.  And  then  what  a  supper  that 
Indian  did  eat! 

After  supper  I  told  him  the  story  of  the  Beil 
rebellion  in  Canada,  and  how  when  they  got 
whipped  the  halfbreeds  and  Indians  came 
across  the  line  into  the  United  States;  and  the 
history  of  his  grandfather,  the  Big  Bear,  and 
his  father,  the  Little  Bear.  All  of  this  amused 
him  and  put  him  on  very  easy  terms  for  the 
night.  I  asked  him  why  he  would  not  talk  with 
me  when  he  first  came  up. 

He  said,  "Sometimes  Injin  say  too  much. 
Me  no  talk  much.  Better  so.  Some  white  man 
want  to  know  heap  too  much.  You  my  friend. 
You  Little  Bear  friend,  my  papa." 

"Yes,"  I  said,  "I  understand,  but  you  can 
talk  like  the  pale  face  some,  and  you  have  a 

Cree  alphabet." 

i- 

[49] 


THE  SHEEP  EATERS 


"Me  no  can  say  what  you  mean,"  he  replied. 
I  took  a  paper  and  showed  him  some  of  the 
letters  which  ran  like  this    \J  fe>    £     f^^ 

"Yes,  me  heap  understand. " 

"I  got  some  letters  from  Canada,  which 
were  written  to  your  father.  Your  sister  read 
them  to  me  in  English,  and  I  sent  letters  to  the 
Great  Father  at  Washington,  to  get  a  place  for 
your  tribe  with  the  Crows. " 

"Yes,  me  heap  savy  now,"  he  said. 


[50] 


THE    SHEEP    EATERS 


CHAPTER  VII 

THE     STOBY     OF     AGGEETTA    AND    RED     ARROW 

On  my  return  I  passed  the  Little  Horn, 
swung  to  the  west,  and  traveled  up  the  Big 
Horn  to  the  canyon,  where  I  found  some  mixed 
Indians  who  were  busy  catching  and  drying 
white  fish.  There  were  Eiver  Crows,  Sho- 
shones,  and  a  few  Mountain  Crows  camped 
along  the  river  in  their  summer  homes  or 
wickyups. 

After  I  had  dismounted,  taken  off  my  packs, 
and  turned  my  horses  loose  to  eat  the  bountiful 
bunch  grass  with  which  the  ground  was  car 
peted,  I  went  up  the  river  to  where  some  rocks 
projected  into  the  water  and  soon  caught  a 
dozen  fine  trout,  and  began  getting  my  supper. 
Just  as  all  was  ready,  I  saw  the  old  Sheep 
Eater  squaw  sitting  on  the  ground  not  far 
away.  I  went  over  to  her  and,  taking  her  by 
the  arm,  led  her  to  my  camp  fire  and  helped  her 


THE  SHEEP  EATERS 


to  a  portion  of  my  broiled  trout,  potatoes,  and 
coffee.  She  kept  her  eyes  on  me  for  a  while 
as  she  ate,  then  said  in  sign  talk,  "I  know  you 
now." 

I  answered,  "Yes? " 

When  she  had  finished  eating,  she  drank  her 
coffee  and  setting  the  tin  cup  down,  said  with 
a  sigh,  "Heap  good."  Then,  after  giving  me 
a  long  and  earnest  look,  "Me  heap  know  you, 
yes,  long  time  ago ;  heap  talk  about  mountains 
and  Sheep  Eaters,  yes." 

This  was  my  chance,  and  I  was  not  slow  to 
take  it.  "Yes,"  I  said,  "and  I  should  like  to 
know  more  of  your  people,"  and  as  she  made 
no  reply  I  went  on,  "about  the  young  people, 
about  how  they  get  married." 

Still  without  looking  at  me,  she  answered: 
"Me  all  time  know  about  young  Chief  Bed  Ar 
row,  Papoose,  and  the  beautiful  young  squaw, 
Aggretta ;  face  all  time  like  sun,  all  time  beauti 
ful  eyes  like  stars,  Aggretta  bring  springtime 
and  flowers,  heap.  Yes  I  tell  pale-face  about 
Eed  Eagle  Papoose  and  Aggretta." 

[52] 


THE  SHEEP  EATERS 


By  this  time  many  braves  were  standing 
around  the  camp-fire  listening  to  the  old  Sheep 
Eater,  who  rarely  talked  of  her  people.  She 
settled  herself  more  comfortably,  pulled  her 
blanket  around  her  shoulders,  and  began  her 
tale  in  a  dull,  listless  way,  but  as  scene  after 
scene  came  before  her  mind,  she  forgot  her 
audience  and  herself  and  lived  again  those  days 
of  her  girlhood.  As  I  watched  the  flush  come 
to  her  cheeks  and  the  light  kindle  in  her  eyes, 
I  lost  sight  of  the  withered  old  relic  of  a  tribe 
now  passed  away,  and  saw  only  the  beautiful 
girl  of  the  past  taking  part  in  the  scenes  she  so 
vividly  described. 

This  is  the  story  she  told:  "Bed  Eagle 
papoose  no  name  yet.  He  never  do  anything 
to  get  name.  Papoose  boy  must  do  something 
good,  save  some  life,  do  some  great  act  before 
he  can  be  great  man.  Aggretta  get  name  be 
cause  she  so  beautiful.  Papoose  go  see  Ag 
gretta,  stay  long  time,  give  her  beautiful  eagle 
feathers  and  beads,  but  Aggretta  no  make  beau 
tiful  eyes  at  him.  Come  summer  time,  Ag- 

[53] 


THE  SHEEP  EATERS 


gretta  go  to  mountain  top  to  pray  to  sun. 
Come  dark  night,  storm,  Aggretta  get  lost 
among  clouds.  The  great  storm  swept  all  over 
mountains  and  snow  fell  on  ground,  on  moun 
tain  top. 

"When  Eed  Eagle  papoose  find  out  Ag 
gretta  lost  on  mountain,  his  heart  on  ground. 
He  get  dried  sheep  and  roots  and  great  bow  and 
arrows,  flint  arrows,  and  go  to  Aggretta. " 

Fascinated,  I  listened,  oblivious  to  every 
thing  but  her  story,  which  I  shall  have  to  put 
into  my  own  words:  "Swift  as  the  mountain 
ram  he  climbs  the  rugged  rocks  and  takes  the 
trail  to  the  great  shrine  wheel.  Soon  he  finds 
her  moccasin  tracks,  and  with  all  the  fleetness 
of  an  Indian  runner  he  climbs  the  rocky  trail, 
here  and  there  stooping  to  find  a  footmark,  the 
breaking  of  a  piece  of  moss,  or  the  displacing 
of  a  small  stone.  The  bent  grass  in  places 
showed  the  direction  in  which  Aggretta  had 
gone.  With  bow  and  arrow  he  glided  on  and 
up.  Soon  he  came  to  the  snow  line,  where  the 
trail  became  more  precipitous  and  the  snow 

[54] 


THE  SHEEP  EATERS 


deeper.  He  stopped  and  wildly  blew  his  cedar 
horn,  but  no  answer  came.  The  storm  had 
abated  and  the  sun's  warm  rays  were  making 
the  snow  soft.  All  impressions  and  trails  were 
obliterated.  The  reflection  of  the  sun  on  the 
snow  was  blinding.  After  a  careful  survey,  he 
struggled  on  up  the  trail,  whose  serpentine 
twists  wound  in  and  out  through  trees  and 
canyons  and  dazzling  snow  until  he  was  almost 
blinded. 

"Entering  a  narrow  canyon  filled  with  fir 
and  spruce  trees,  he  stopped  in  this  haven  to 
rest  his  tired  eyes.  When  his  vision  had 
cleared,  his  heart  gave  a  bound ;  he  thought  he 
could  see  a  moccasin  track  ahead  in  the  trail. 
He  was  off  like  a  deer,  and  in  a  moment  he  was 
scraping  the  soft  snow  away  to  find — the  tracks 
of  a  terrible  grizzly.  Now  he  knew  there  was 
trouble  ahead,  for  he  felt  sure  the  bear  would 
follow  Aggretta's  trail.  His  suspicions  proved 
correct,  and  mile  after  mile  he  followed  the 
trail,  until  he  came  to  the  camping  ground 
where  the  Sheep  Eaters  met  twice  a  year  to 

[55] 


THE    SHEEP   EATERS 


worship.  Just  as  lie  reached  an  elevated  spot 
he  heard  the  scream  of  his  Aggretta,  and  start 
ing  in  the  direction  from  which  it  came,  he  saw 
the  grizzly  coming  straight  for  him.  He 
brought  his  long  bow  to  his  face  and  placed  the 
great  jagged  arrow  against  the  sinew.  Drop 
ping  on  his  back,  with  both  feet  against  the  bow 
and  both  hands  on  the  sinew,  he  bent  the  bow 
until  the  arrow  was  just  at  full  length  and  the 
flint  touched  the  bow;  then,  letting  the  bear 
have  the  shaft  full  in  the  breast,  he  jumped  like 
a  cat  to  one  side,  and  the  bear  passed.  One 
terrible  roar  told  that  the  grizzly  had  been  hit 
in  a  vital  place. 

"The  bear  turned  and  started  after  the 
young  brave,  who  was  bounding  along  toward 
the  scrub  fir  tree  where  Aggretta  was  perched. 
On  came  the  bear,  with  the  blood  streaming 
from  his  mouth,  steadily  gaining  on  the  brave, 
until  it  seemed  certain  he  would  catch  him  be 
fore  the  tree  was  reached.  Aggretta,  watching 
the  race,  gave  a  cry  of  warning,  and  the  brave 
turned  suddenly  and  bounded  away  down  the 


[56] 


THE  SHEEP  EATERS 


hill.  The  bear,  infuriated  with  pain,  rushed 
after  him.  When  the  distance  between  them 
was  short,  the  brave  leaped  aside  with  the 
agility  of  a  coyote,  while  the  weight  of  the  great 
monster  carried  it  down  the  mountain  side.  Be 
fore  the  bear  could  make  the  turn,  the  brave 
was  beside  his  Aggretta  in  the  tree.  But  no 
sooner  had  he  cleared  the  ground  than  the 
monster  was  underneath  the  tree,  tearing  at 
the  lower  limbs,  while  the  shaft  remained 
buried  in  his  vitals. 

"The  brave  took  another  arrow  from  his 
quiver  and  with  deliberate  aim  he  drove  the 
arrow  with  its  obsidian  shaft  into  one  of  the 
bear's  eyes,  cutting  it  entirely  out.  The  great 
brute  rolled  over  and  with  his  paws  tore  the 
arrow  from  his  eye,  but  the  inward  bleeding 
was  fast  filling  his  powerful  lungs. 

"The  two  lovers  sat  together  trembling  like 
forest  leaves,  as  the  grizzly  rolled  over  the 
snow  with  his  life  blood  oozing  away.  The 
young  brave  drew  another  shaft  and  was  about 
to  send  it  home,  when  Aggretta  said,  'Wait,  he 

[57] 


THE  SHEEP  EATERS 


will  not  live  long  now,  and  you  may  need  your 
arrows.  We  are  far  from  our  people  and  there 
are  many  wild  beasts  between  us  and  our 
lodge. ' 

"He  replaced  the  arrow  in  his  quiver,  say 
ing,  'Aggretta  speaks  wisely,  like  her  father, 
Black  Raven.' 

"At  last  the  lovers  came  slowly  down  from 
the  tree.  Cautiously  the  brave  crept  forward 
and  made  sure  the  bear  was  dead.  Then  he 
grasped  the  shaft,  and  exerting  all  his  strength 
pulled  it  from  the  breast  of  the  dead  brute, 
whose  lungs  it  had  penetrated.  Holding  the 
bloody  arrow  in  his  hand,  the  young  brave  told 
Aggretta  this  was  his  first  great  bear. 

"  'Yes,'  said  Agretta,  'now  you  have  won  a 
name,  and  Aggretta  the  daughter  of  chief  Black 
Eaven,  will  name  you  the  Red  Arrow. ' 

"After  taking  the  claws  of  the  bear  to  make 
a  necklace  for  himself,  they  started  down  the 
trail  in  their  homeward  journey.  Young  and 
fleet  of  foot,  they  went,  at  a  swift  pace  down  the 
mountain,  hand  in  hand.  After  covering  many 

[58] 


THE  SHEEP  EATERS 


miles,  Red  Arrow  called  a  halt  at  a  mountain 
spring,  where  he  took  from  his  buckskin  shirt 
some  dried  sheep,  and  they  ate  heartily  while 
they  talked  of  the  great  rejoicing  there  would 
be  in  the  Sheep  Eaters'  lodges  when  they  re 
turned. 

"  After  lunch  they  started  on  down  the  trail, 
Aggretta  keeping  pace  with  Eed  Arrow.  Once 
the  stillness  was  broken  by  the  faint  blast  of  a 
red  cedar  horn;  but  it  was  not  until  they  had 
stopped  to  rest  in  a  great  park,  where  the  snow 
had  melted  away,  that  they  heard  a  blast  that 
echoed  and  reechoed  through  the  wild  hills  and 
canyons  and  the  farthest  glen.  Eed  Arrow  rec 
ognized  the  blast  as  coming  from  his  father's 
horn,  and  took  from  his  belt  a  horn  made  from 
the  mountain  ram 's  horn.  Filling  his  powerful 
lungs,  he  placed  it  carefully  to  his  lips,  and 
blew  one  long  quivering  blast  which  burst 
through  the  air  like  a  rocket,  penetrating  the 
canyons  and  the  forests,  echoing  far  down 
through  the  valleys  where  the  Sheep  Eaters 
had  built  their  lodges  among  the  crags. 

[59] 


THE    SHEEP    EATERS 


"As  they  rested  under  a  great  tree  with  the 
sunlight  filtering  through  its  branches,  making 
lacy  patterns  on  the  moss  at  their  feet,  and  the 
magpies  and  squirrels  scolding  and  chattering 
in  the  nearby  trees,  Aggretta  told  of  her 
wanderings  on  the  mountains,  and  her  escape 
from  the  bear,  the  despair  she  felt  of  ever 
being  rescued,  and  her  joy  when  she  saw  him, 
Bed  Arrow,  coming.  Eed  Arrow 's  heart  was 
too  full  for  utterance,  and  when  she  had 
finished,  he  sat  looking  into  her  beautiful  brown 
eyes,  while  his  heart  throbbed  almost  aloud. 
At  last  he  said,  'Red  Arrow  look  heap  on  Ag 
gretta?' 

"Casting  her  eyes  around  like  a  frightened 
fawn,  she  moved  closer  to  her  lord  of  the  forest. 

"  'Aggretta  much  good,  and  great  father 
say  me  have  Aggretta,'  he  continued. 

"She  nestled  still  closer  and  he  slipped  his 
arm  around  the  trembling  maiden  and  drew  her 
to  him.  His  pleading  eyes  looked  straight  into 
hers,  and  through  into  her  very  soul,  as  he  said, 


[60] 


THE   SHEEP    EATERS 


'You  give  me  much  good  name,  now  do  you  give 
me  AggrettaT 

"  Softly  her  arm  stole  round  his  neck,  the 
black  head  went  down  on  his  shoulder  while 
tears  of  joy  slipped  down  her  cheeks.  Words 
could  not  add  to  the  rapture  of  these  two  hearts 
drawn  together  by  the  wonderful  love  known 
only  to  the  children  of  nature,  and  they  sat  in 
silence  until  the  cedar  horn  was  heard  again. 
This  was  the  signal  to  move  on.  Down  through 
the  beautiful  ferns  and  wild  flowers  the  lovers 
sped,  leaving  behind  the  mountains  and  the 
snow.  Hand  in  hand  they  pressed  forward 
down  the  winding  trail,  beaten  deep  into  the 
earth  by  the  buffalo,  the  elk,  the  deer,  the  sheep. 
The  goldenrod  nodded  in  the  breeze.  Little 
squirrels  went  frisking  up  the  nut  pines,  gather 
ing  the  rich  nuts,  and  the  ruffed  grouse  safely 
hidden  among  the  brown  leaves,  quietly  viewed 
the  scene. 

''Tired  and  breathless  the  two  Sheep  Eaters 
reached  the  park  a  few  miles  above  the  village 
and  were  met  there  by  the  rescuing  party.  The 


THE    SHEEP   EATERS 


great  chief,  Eed  Eagle,  folded  Aggretta  in  his 
arms.  Then  taking  his  son,  he  embraced  them 
both  and  blessed  them  with  his  richest  bless 
ings.  The  horns  were  brought  forth,  and  their 
notes  bursting  upon  the  air  apprised  the  wait 
ing  villagers  of  the  finding  of  Aggretta.  When 
the  royal  pair  had  been  escorted  from  the 
mountain  park  to  their  lodges,  the  whole  vil 
lage  joined  in  song  and  praise  for  the  young 
chief.  Then  all  the  chiefs  assembled,  and 
before  them  and  the  young  brave,  Aggretta 
bashfully  told  the  story  of  how  she  was  driven 
to  the  forest  by  the  storm,  lost  among  the  great 
fir  trees,  followed  by  the  bear,  escaped  into  the 
fir  tree,  and  her  rescue  by  the  young  papoose 
when  she  had  given  up  all  hope.  She  described 
his  race  for  life  and  the  courage  and  ingenuity 
with  which  he  outwitted  the  bear,  and  of  his 
sending  the  arrow  to  the  creature 's  heart.  She 
told  how,  when  he  had  pulled  the  arrow  from 
the  brute's  heart  all  dripping  with  blood,  she 
had  named  him  Chief  Eed  Arrow. 

"The  chiefs,  after  listening  to  her  story, 

[62] 


THE  SHEEP  EATERS 


agreed  that  the  papoose  had  won  the  right  to 
a  name ;  and  he  was  then  and  there  christened 
Chief  Bed  Arrow. 

"The  next  day  Chief  Bed  Arrow  selected  a 
beautiful  tepee,  made  of  the  best  of  lodge  poles, 
cemented  together  with  pine  pitch  and  glue 
from  the  mountain  ram's  hoofs,  and  in  it  he 
stored  his  earthly  stock  of  goods.  He  carpeted 
the  floor  of  his  new  lodge  with  the  skins  of  the 
mountain  ram,  the  cougar,  the  red  deer,  the  elk, 
and  the  bear,  while  the  walls  were  hung  with 
robes  from  the  mountain  bison,  the  otter,  the 
beaver,  the  mink,  and  the  martin.  The  vil 
lagers  watched  with  interest  while  he  worked. 
He  drew  a  rawhide  thong  across  the  center  of 
his  lodge,  facing  the  door.  On  this  he  hung  the 
prize  trophies  of  the  chase,  making  a  partition 
for  his  lodge.  In  the  center  he  left  a  door- way, 
over  which  he  hung  a  beautiful  spotted  elk  calf 
robe  for  a  door.  The  lodge  was  located  in  an 
ideal  spot,  where  the  green  mountain  ferns 
covered  the  ground  and  a  spring  of  clear  water 
sparkled  and  bubbled  close  at  hand.  On  either 

[63] 


THE    SHEEP    EATERS 


side  stood  a  large,  low,  spreading  pine,  protect 
ing  the  lodge  from  the  summer  suns  and  winter 
storms. 

"While  Bed  Arrow  was  still  busy  decorat 
ing  his  lodge  for  his  young  bride-to-be,  sixteen 
of  the  best  hunters  were  sent  into  the  forest  and 
mountains  and  directed  to  bring  in  the  choicest 
game  to  be  found  and  the  skin  of  the  great  bear 
that  had  come  so  near  killing  Aggretta. 

"All  this  time  Aggretta  was  nowhere  to  be 
seen.  It  was  a  custom  among  the  Sheep  Eaters 
that  the  prospective  bride  must  seclude  herself 
and  prepare  for  the  coming  ceremonies. 

"Four  days  later  the  lodge  was  completed 
and  all  but  three  of  the  hunters  had  returned 
loaded  with  mountain  sheep,  elk,  and  deer.  On 
the  fifth  day  came  the  three  with  the  skin  of  the 
great  bear  which  had  given  Eed  Arrow  his 
name. 

"The  great  skin  was  placed  on  the  ground. 
Eed  Arrow  brought  Aggretta  out,  and  before 
the  whole  village  she  repeated  the  story  of  her 
terrible  experience  on  the  mountain  and  her 

[64] 


i 


A  SUMMER  HOUSE  OR  LOVERS'  RETREAT 


THE  SHEEP  EATERS 


rescue  by  Bed  Arrow.  Then  the  great  Bed 
Eagle,  in  all  his  splendor,  stepped  upon  a  rock 
and  announced  that  his  son,  Eed  Arrow,  now 
had  a  name,  won  by  bravery  shown  in  the  sav 
ing  of  the  life  of  Aggretta,  and  in  ten  sleeps  the 
Red  Arrow  would  bring  this  beautiful  maiden, 
daughter  of  the  Black  Raven,  to  his  lodge,  at 
which  time  there  would  be  great  rejoicing  and 
feasting  among  the  Sheep  Eaters.  When  he 
had  concluded  three  blasts  were  blown  on  the 
cedar  horns  and  the  crowd  quietly  dispersed 
to  their  lodges. 

"The  next  ten  days  were  busy  ones  in  the 
village.  Every  Indian  had  his  share  in  the  pre 
parations  for  the  great  event. 

"On  the  morning  of  the  tenth  sleep,  before 
even  the  birds  had  begun  their  morning  chants, 
thirty  braves  in  their  gala  dress,  stole  silently 
forth  from  their  lodges  and  assembled  in  the 
open  space  before  the  village.  When  the  first 
faint  blush  of  dawn  appeared  in  the  east,  a  blast 
from  thirty  cedar  horns  broke  the  stillness  of 
the  beautiful  mountain  village.  As  the  last 

[65] 


THE    SHEEP    EATERS 


notes  died  away  two  processions  from  opposite 
ends  of  the  village  started  toward  the  bridal 
lodge.  Aggretta,  in  her  bridal  gown  of  skins 
and  beads,  black  hair  down  to  her  moccasin 
tops,  came  with  the  step  of  a  queen  from  her 
father's  lodge,  attended  by  twenty-eight  lovely 
maidens,  each  the  choice  of  her  tribe.  From 
the  other  end  of  the  village  came  Bed  Arrow 
out  of  the  lodge  of  Chief  Bed  Eagle,  attended 
by  twenty-eight  braves,  all  splendid  in  their 
wedding  garb. 

"  Never  bride  pledged  her  troth  amid 
greater  beauty.  Overhead  a  canopy  of  blue, 
with  here  and  there  a  fleecy  cloud  daintly  edged 
with  pink.  Bound  about  were  walls  of  massive, 
towering  rock,  stately  evergreens  and  the 
thousand  surrounding  lodges,  and  under  foot 
a  carpet  of  grass  and  ferns  and  flowers. 

"Just  as  the  sun's  rim  cleared  the  horizon, 
the  lovers  met  at  the  door  of  the  lodge  and 
stood  side  by  side  on  the  great  bear  skin,  while 
the  blowing  of  horns  and  the  chanting  of 
twenty-eight  maidens  and  twenty-eight  braves 

[66] 


THE    SHEEP    EATERS 


made  the  mountains  ring  with  joy.  Then  a 
thousand  voices  swelled  the  chorus  of  praise 
to  the  young  aristocrats. 

"The  great  medicine  chief  came  forward 
and  performed  the  rites  of  the  tribe.  The  pair 
knelt  on  the  bear  skin  with  their  faces  to 
the  sun,  while  he  joined  them  together  in  mar 
riage.  The  ceremonies  finished,  the  brave  and 
his  bride  entered  the  lodge  he  had  prepared, 
while  the  villagers  went  to  their  tepees,  chant 
ing  songs  of  praise  to  the  new  made  bride. 

"At  evening,  when  the  sun  had  gone  to  rest 
and  the  stately  peaks  had  changed  from  pink 
to  lavendar,  from  gold  to  copper,  and  from  pur 
ple  to  gray,  when  the  evening  star  had  cleared 
the  horizon  and  had  begun  to  wink  and  beckon 
to  the  laggard  moon,  then  again  the  village 
awoke  to  life,  and  the  royal  feast  began.  Fires 
were  kindled  and  great  flat  stones  were  heated. 
Choice  cuts  of  elk,  the  tenderloin  and  tongues 
and  hams  of  sheep  were  roasted.  Venison 
steak  and  ribs  were  broiled  to  a  turn.  The 
bridal  couple  came  forth  and  once  more  took 

..[67] 


THE    SHEEP    EATERS 


their  place  on  the  bear  skin.  The  singers  and 
dancers  in  the  center  of  the  great  throng  began 
their  weird  chants  and  slow  rhythmical  steps. 
The  tom-tom  burst  forth,  the  chants  became 
louder,  the  dance  swifter.  The  maidens  took 
up  the  chant,  first  low  and  sweet,  and  as  it  grew 
higher  and  louder,  the  young  braves  added 
their  voices,  then  the  older  people  joined  the 
chorus.  Torches  of  cedar,  burning  like  rockets, 
were  thrown  into  the  air,  the  tom-toms  pealed 
out  their  muffled  notes,  and  from  a  thousand 
throats  rolled  the  great  wedding  song,  until  the 
tepees  shook,  and  the  hills  and  valleys  echoed 
with  the  sounds  of  rejoicing.  They  danced  and 
chanted  and  feasted  while  the  stars  came  out 
till  the  sky  seemed  crowded,  while  the  camp- 
fires  leaped  and  blazed.  They  danced  and 
feasted  and  sang,  until  the  camp-fires  smould 
ered  and  died  out,  and  the  night  birds  made 
their  last  faint  twitterings  before  seeking  rest. 
They  sang  and  feasted  and  danced  when  all 
else  was  still  save  the  Grey  Bull  Eiver,  murmur 
ing  as  it  swept  along  over  its  gravelly  bed,  the 

[68] 


THE  SHEEP  EATERS 


far  off  hoot  of  an  owl,  or  the  cry  of  the  coyote 
still  lingering  for  his  share  of  the  wedding 
feast.  When  the  little  stars  had  gone  to  rest 
and  the  larger  ones  were  beginning  to  slip 
away,  then  quietly,  in  groups,  the  throng  dis 
persed,  wishing  the  newly  married  pair  good 
night  and  happy  days,  as  they  passed. 

"When  the  last  one  had  gone,  Bed  Arrow 
turned  to  his  bride,  and  taking  her  by  the  hand, 
led  her  into  his  lodge.  Looking  into  her  brown 
eyes,  so  full  of  love  and  trust,  he  said,  'This  is 
our  home,  and  I  know  we  shall  always  be  happy 
here,  for  our  people  all  love  us  and  the  great 
spirit  is  well  pleased. ' 

"Then  he  let  the  skin  fall  loosely  over  the 
door,  and  the  great  day  of  the  Sheep  Eaters 
had  passed.  The  silent  night  became  more 
silent,  the  owl  ceased  calling  to  his  mate,  the 
coyote  skulked  into  his  lair,  the  birds  ceased 
their  chirping,  the  great  forest  trees  seemed 
in  a  trance,  not  a  flower  or  fern  moved,  all 
nature  was  at  rest. 

"The  Great  Bed  Eagle,  chief  of  the  twenty- 

[69] 


THE   SHEEP    EATERS 


eight  tribes,  sent  runners  to  all  his  people  with 
the  message  that  in  the  spring,  when  the  warm 
sun  should  come  again,  all  the  tribes  were  to 
assemble  at  the  great  Sun  Dial  to  worship  and 
rejoice  over  the  wedding  of  his  son  to  the  beau 
tiful  Aggretta. 

* t  The  warm  sun  came,  and  a  great  camp-fire 
was  kept  burning  for  two  nights  on  Bald  Moun 
tain,  where  it  could  be  seen  by  the  tribes  many 
miles  away,  even  into  Wyoming.  Then  came 
the  greatest  gathering  that  had  ever  assembled 
in  the  mountains. 

1  '  Day  after  day  came  the  people,  eager  to  see 
the  young  chief tian  and  his  squaw,  who  were  to 
rule  the  people  when  the  great  Red  Eagle  was 
no  longer  able  to  rule.  Songs  to  the  sun  began 
to  rise  from  the  great  rock-ribbed  mountains, 
and  the  royal  family,  with  Bed  Arrow  and  the 
beautiful  Aggretta,  took  their  places  on  the 
great  stone  spokes  of  the  wheel,  facing  the  east. 
They  began  their  worship  by  moving  along 
until  they  came  to  the  rim,  when  the  men  turned 
to  the  right  and  the  squaws  to  the  left,  singing 

[70] 


THE  SHEEP  EATERS 


their  chants  to  the  sun.  The  sun  chant  begins 
very  low,  but  as  they  go  around  the  wheel  it  be 
comes  louder  and  louder  until  the  climax  is 
reached,  then  a  new  company  takes  the  wheel, 
and  the  first  worshippers  retire  to  their  seats, 
watching  and  joining  in  the  chants  until  the 
foothills  and  canyons  and  plains  resound  with 
the  music.  Bancroft  Ubrwr 

"Thus  the  days  and  nights  were  passed 
until  the  end  of  their  fourteen  day  holiday  had 
come.  The  chief  and  his  squaw  had  become 
acquainted  with  the  leaders  of  the  twenty-eight 
tribes,  and  after  the  annual  worship  was  over 
and  the  customary  gifts  had  been  made  to  the 
young  chief,  Bed  Arrow,  and  his  bride,  each 
tribe,  headed  by  the  subchief  went  to  their 
homes  among  the  mountains. " 


171] 


THE    SHEEP    EATERS 


CHAPTER  VIII 

CLOSING     WOKDS 

One  evening,  when  the  old  squaw  seemed  to 
be  in  a  friendly  mood,  I  made  some  inquiries  as 
to  where  the  several  tribes  had  lived,  and  she 
said:  "You  white  man  want  to  know  heap 
about  Sheep  Eaters.  Why  for  you  know  so 
much?" 

I  told  her  I  was  very  much  interested  in  her 
people.  Then  I  gave  her  a  pretty  bead  neck 
lace  of  regular  crow  beads,  ornamented  with 
paint.  She  put  them  on  and  a  smile  lighted  the 
wrinkled  old  face. 

6 ' White  man  heap  good,"  she  said,  patting 
the  beads;  then  after  admiring  the  beads  for 
a  time,  she  turned  her  attention  to  me.  "  White 
man  find  many  camps  of  Sheep  Eaters  on  Paint 
Rocks.  Sheep  Eaters  make  much  squaw  and 
papoose  on  rocks.  On  Great  Mountain,  white 
man  find  many  tepees  and  sheep  pens  where 

[72] 


THE  SHEEP  EATERS 


Indian  catch  much  sheep  to  eat.  Many  rivers 
away  up  in  mountain,  find  much  Indian  work. 
Away  up  close  to  bad  spirit  country,  you  find 
many  tepee,  much  rich  plenty.  (National 
Park.)  Our  people  think  bad  spirits  always  at 
war  in  the  earth,  so  our  people  scarcely  ever 
went  into  that  country,  although  our  great  men 
fetch  obsidian  from  there  to  make  arrows.  Our 
men  make  arrows  of  the  most  beautiful  design. 
We  were  called  the  arrow  makers.  We  made 
the  most  beautiful  fur  garments  and  our  tanned 
skins  were  the  best. ' ' 

"Tell  me  who  you  are,  are  you  a  chief's 
daughter?"  I  asked. 

She  turned  her  eyes  away  at  the  question, 
and  sat  for  a  long  time  with  that  vacant  look  on 
her  face  as  though  seeing  all  her  past;  then 
suddenly  she  turned,  and  looking  squarely  at 
me,  she  said,  "Me  Red  Arrow's  squaw." 

I  was  amazed,  but  could  not  doubt  her  word, 
as  she  had  told  me  the  truth  so  far  as  I  had  in 
vestigated.  It  seemed  impossible  that  this 
most  haggard  of  old  women  could  have  been 

[73] 


THE  SHEEP  EATERS 


the  most  beautiful  girl  of  her  tribe.  But  a 
hundred  and  fifteen  years  of  life  can  change 
much,  even  the  beautiful  curves  of  the  human 
body  and  the  roses  on  the  cheek  and  lip.  A 
hundred  and  fifteen  years!  But  this  was  the 
chance  of  a  lifetime,  I  must  not  let  it  slip  away 
while  I  dreamed. 

44 Where  did  your  people  go!"  I  asked; 
what  became  of  your  tribe?" 

"One  beautiful  day,"  she  replied,  "when 
sun  warm  and  earth  green,  white  man  got  lost 
and  his  ponies  come  into  our  camp.  White 
man  very  sick.  Medicine  man  put  him  in  big 
tepee  and  take  care  of  him,  give  him  much  bath 
in  hot  water.  Man  got  very  red  like  Indian 
man,  face  much  all  over  spots.  By  and  by  he 
die.  Then  sickness  all  over  camp.  Sheep 
Eater  run  off  in  forest  and  die.  Some  run  to 
other  villages,  they  all  die.  Sheep  Eater  all 
much  scared  and  run  away.  Many  tepee  stand 
ing  alone,  all  dead  inside.  Bed  Eagle  die,  Bed 
Arrow  die,  me  no  die,  me  very  much  scare,  go 
off  in  mountains,  eat  berries,  cherries,  root. 

[74] 


THE   SHEEP   EATERS 


Me  find  many  Sheep  Eater  dead  in  woods.  By 
and  by  Sheep  Eaters  not  many.  They  go  to 
other  Indian  tribes  down  in  valley  on  river, 
where  much  big  water  runs,  and  eat  heap 
buffalo,  ride  pony,  marry  heap  squaw.  Sheep 
Eater  have  one  squaw,  other  Indians  many. 
Then  Sheep  Eater  no  more,  no  more  papoose, 
no  more  squaw,  all  gone.  Cold  winds  go, 
spring  come,  wild  geese  come  back  to  lakes. 
Sheep  Eater  no  come  back,  all  gone.  Tepee 
rot,  rain,  wind,  snow,  sun,  on  bones,  on  blanket, 
tepees,  skins,  bows,  arrows.  By  and  by  all 
gone  too.  Indian  no  go  there  long  time,  many 
moon." 

So  passed  away  the  proudest  race  of  Indians 
that  ever  lived  on  earth.  They  left  behind  no 
trace  of  history  except  the  Paint  Bocks  among 
the  canyons  of  Wyoming,  near  Basin  City,  and 
in  Crandle  Creek  Basin,  Montana,  on  which  we 
might  read  of  a  thousand  historical  deeds  if 
we  could  but  find  the  key.  These,  and  the  great 
shrine  wheel  on  Bald  Mountain,  the  sheep  pens 
where  the  wary  sheep  were  caught,  and  here 

[75] 


THE    SHEEP    EATERS 


and  there  along  the  mountain  trails,  stone 
blinds  behind  which  the  hunter  lay  in  ambush 
for  game,  are  all  that  is  left  to  remind  us  of  a 
tribe  now  extinct. 

From  those  visible  signs,  and  the  tales  of 
the  old  squaw  and  stories  extant  among  other 
tribes,  we  find  the  Sheep  Eaters  were  a  strong, 
brave,  peaceable  race  of  people,  clean  morally 
and  physically.  Provident  and  inventive,  ex 
celling  in  all  the  Indian  arts.  They  lived  as 
brothers.  No  poor  were  ever  known  among 
them,  all  sharing  alike  except  the  chiefs,  who 
had  larger  tepees  and  more  robes  that  they 
might  care  for  visitors.  Death  was  meted  out 
to  the  woman  who  broke  her  marriage  vows, 
and  after  death  she  was  condemned  to  live  in 
darkness  and  never  again  to  see  the  sun  they 
worshipped. 

They  never  knew  the  use  of  alcohol  in  any 
form.  It  was  left  to  the  proud,  civilized  whites 
to  bring  that  curse  to  the  Indians.  This  favored 
people  never  saw  but  the  one  white  man,  and  he 


[76] 


THE   SHEEP    EATERS 


only  brought  death  to  their  bodies,  leaving  their 
souls  unashamed  to  face  their  Maker. 

It  seems  very  fitting  that  this  most  perfect 
tribe  of  which  we  know  should  have  lived  out 
their  little  span  of  life  among  the  most  perfect 
surroundings,  building  their  homes  in  the  crags 
and  rocks  among  those  towering  mountains, 
whose  lofty  heads  are  covered  with  perpetual 
snow,  on  whose  sides  great  glaciers  lie  half 
hidden,  like  monsters  of  the  deep.  Dark 
stretches  of  timber  fringe  the  canyons  where 
the  bald  eagle,  silent  as  the  grave,  seeks  its 
prey.  To  the  south  the  black  forest  clings  to 
the  shoulders  of  the  mountains  where  the  snow 
goes  whirling  across  the  peaks,  along  the  table 
land,  and  in,to  the  valleys.  Always  and  always 
the  silent  Eockies  towering  among  the  clouds 
on  the  one  side  and  the  majestic  Big  Horn  on 
the  other.  Sentinel  peaks,  capped  with  the 
eternal  snows,  stand  like  hoary-headed  giants. 
Great  piles  of  God's  masonry  wall  in  this  emer 
ald  vale  with  one  ever-astounding,  sometimes 
appalling,  always  changing  vista  of  mountain, 

[77] 


THE  SHEEP  EATERS 


forest,  river,  lake,  crest,  gorge,  and  peak. 
Crouched  in  this  empire  of  solemnity  by  night 
and  grandeur  by  day,  was  the  home  of  the 
Sheep  Eaters. 


